The Last Bullet
by Full Circle Of Trust
Summary: Completely AU, not related whatsoever to Left 4 Dead or their characters involved! We do not own Left 4 Dead, but these OCs are ours Bitches! 11 Mercenaries trapped in an underground lab fight for their lives against a horde of rage induced infected. They will be fighting not only for survival but for the continuation of the Human Race. Should the virus escape, Hell comes to Earth.
1. Prologue

Hello, Dear readers. This Fanfic started as an idea brainstormed out of the blue. Me and my friends never intended that it would lead to this but it did. The story's main characters are just my friends and I, their personalities are kept intact 100% so as to bring out their uniqueness among our clique.

Dramatis Personae –

Firdaus - Zachary "Zack" Martin - Brooklyn, USA

– Graduated from SOI in 2022, Zack's exemplary record ended him up in Delta Force, 1st Platoon, FireStorm, calamity struck when he raped a Japanese tourist while on shore leave in Hawaii. Court Marshalled and dishonorably discharged, Zack was stranded in odd jobs and whatnot, before N-CyGen recruited him despite his weakness towards women. He was originally placed in Vendetta Squad, N-CyGen's Elite Security Force under Sergeant Victors. A week later, during a raid on a classified research facility, Vendetta Squad was wiped out, he was the only survivor, his objectives were defended and all hostiles dead. 1st candidate for Corbulo squad.

Jihad - Jeremiah "Jem" Mortensen - New York, USA

Ex-Marine and a good man. Has no combat experience during his time in the Marines. Left the organization at the age of 22. Joined N-CyGen as a security enforcer. After 6 months, his good record got him as a candidate for the Corporation's Elite Security Force. Easily distracted, too predictable and swears worse than a sailor. Always gets picked on by Jacko, Eyes and McFarlene. However he is the tormenter of Jaff. Rarely screws up but when he does its big. 2nd Candidate for Corbulo squad.

Ajib – Tyson "Trevor" Billad - San Francisco, USA

Ex – Brazilian Jujitsu fighter and construction worker. He is the perfect example of a combat engineer. Due to his experience in high risk environment during his time as a construction worker, it gives him a very cool mindset during the worst of situations. Has a weakness for cigarettes and cigars. Especially cigars. He got retrenched but quickly got himself re-employed under N-CyGen as a repairman. He got into the Elite Security Force after single handedly fending off saboteurs in a classified incident armed with only a pistol and a welding tool. 3rd candidate for Corbulo Squad.

Akiff – Jansen "Jacko" Louise - New Orlean, USA

Naturally endomorph by size. Jansen was a member of Navy Seals with an outstanding record during the US-Iran War in '19. This hulk of a man is one of the demo man in the squad. Standing proud with his Mini Gun which he calls 'lil-Jess' he particularly revels in combat, screaming profanities all the way, though not as vulgar as Jem. A family man and also one of the clowns in the squad. His preferred victim is Jem. He would have a spat with Trevor from time to time in trivia matters. He is the incarnation of a boy in a man's body. 4th candidate of Corbulo Squad.

Adnan – Jeffery "Jaff" Nan - Hongkong

Ex-Spook of Hong Kong's intelligence agency with a standing record of over 8 years of service. Armed with a set of lame jokes, he always tries to play the fool in the squad but always backfires and has everyone gangbanging his ass. Figuratively of course, the squad is like a second family to him. A good listener and always gets his job done right. The intelligence agency let go of him to work as a security enforcer for N-CyGen due to its attractive salary. 5th candidate of Corbulo Squad.

Uzair Bafana – Mozat "Merkav" Kavia - Tel Aviv, Israel

Ex Bodybuilder and also a field agent of the feared Mossad Agency. Ruthless towards his enemy yet so compassionate towards his allies. Incredibly knowledgeable and wise, he enjoys giving advice and sharing his personal experience during his time in Mossad. Armed with his Galil and his grenade launcher attachment, Merkav is a deadly asset of the squad. His always the first to charge into combat and last to leave. He has a strong belief in never leaving a man behind. He is also the ladies man of the squad. Zack is his student in the 'Art of Seduction.' 6th candidate of Corbulo Squad.

Zul – Gustav "Eyes" Renée - Cannes, France

Ex GIGN marksman. During his career, he racked up a kill count of over 200 in a span of 5 years. During which he left and got recruited by N-CyGen as an Elite Security Force member, due to his exemplary skills as a sniper. Gets his nickname 'Eyes' due to his sharp eyesight and his crack shot as a sniper. He can be described as 'pot calling the kettle black', much worse than Simon Cowell and laid back most of the times. When an opportunity comes to go for a silent kill, he has a habit of shouting "Rawr!" One of the clowns of the squad and the funniest at that. Bonds well with Abe, Jacko and Zack. Similar to Jaff, he gets his job done and exceeds expectations. 7th candidate of Corbulo Squad.

Hakim – Petrenko "Pack" Dima - Moscow, Russia

Dima gets the name 'Pack' during his time as a GRU Operative Hacker due to his habit of carrying too much electronic devices. Top of his class in electronic combat. He was assigned to a special division in cyber warfare. He left GRU after 10 years working for them. When asked why, he simply replied, "The pay sucks and you suck" He joined N-CyGen shortly after and immediately sent for field evaluation as an Elite Security Enforcer. Finally, the wayward hacker found a job he belongs in. His character can be described as "eccentric", with his habit of carrying excess items and his bad English plus his silent behavior in most situations. 8th candidate for Corbulo Squad.

Aizat – Keanan "McFarlene" - York, Great Britain

Former SAS member under a classified division led by LT. CMDR Mosby Coonts, shown exemplary performance as an operative active in counter-terrorist activities across the globe. Dishonourably discharged after leading his men to their deaths during a raid in Pripyat, Russia. Evaluated by his peers as very calm and collected during combat and even going over the call of duty to achieve impossible odds, prefers to toy with his team mates during RnR. Rarely gets pissed off and mantains a professional image at all times. However, piss him off and his carbine is the last thing you'll ever see in this world. Recruited by N-CyGen shortly after his discharged from the British Millitary. 9th candidate for Corbulo Squad.

Bizz – Abraham "Abe" McDermott - Manchester, Great Britain

Former SWAT team leader with experience of over a decade, Abraham has seen it all, done it all as an officer of the law. He fell out of the Force after a prolonged quarrel with the Chief Inspector. Carries a Desert Eagle dated back during his time as a SWAT member. "Old Reliable" he calls it. After 2 years unemployed, N-CyGen came looking for him with an offer to lead a squad that has been recently formed yet leaderless. He accepted and christened the team, Corbulo Squad. He is considered the centre of attention in the squad, bonding well with everyone. Armed with the fire in his belly and an excellent employee, he is more of an asset than a liability and could have gone far in the organization were it not for his habit of arguing with his superiors over unrealistic aims. Mesomorph by size, Abraham has been bulking up since his induction back to the life of blood and firepower. When not in full combat kit, he would always have a cigar stuck in the lip of his mouth. The last candidate for Corbulo Squad.

* * *

…..

Recording...Play

…July 16th 2035

*static burst

If you are receiving this recording, most likely you're some half-assed reporter breaking his ass night and day and constantly. Kissing up to your boss for a break in your career, I can go on but that's not why we sent you this tape.

You know who we are, you know the shit we've done.

This is your lucky day, here's your break, happy birthday. We need YOU to get the story out. The real truth out.

The Elfen Reid incident in 2026 was quickly contained as an isolated incident. What the millions of souls were allowed to know was simple.

A research facility owned by N-Cygenetics Corporations had been compromised in a disastrous inferno.

The cover-up given by those shit eating corporate spooks was the facility's generators going overdrive and effectively claiming every shred of research and also every shred of evidence that could be used against N-CyGen wiped out from the face of the Earth.

The public only knew the need-to-know-basis.

They don't know the fucking story as they thought they did. They weren't told of the sacrifice a group of mercenaries actually gave a shit and fought for a cause not for money and prevented hell from coming to Earth. They weren't told of what N-CyGen were doing in that godforsaken factory. How over a thousand of their employees were wiped out and written off as bad debts.

Few knew the story. Us included. We were there. We prevented the horrors from reaching the surface of this planet and for what? To be fucking hunted down like animals?

We're fucking tired of running. It's time the public knows the story, uncensored, unedited, untainted by the government and corporate fucks. Raw and pure. This is our side of the story. This is the final operation of Corbulo Squad.

* * *

December 21st 2026….

Before the shitstorm began, we were known as Corbulo Squad, part of

the N-CyGen's elite security force. You could call us mercenaries, or hired guns whichever floats your boat. I remember what we were doing before the goddamn call came in.

We were celebrating a birthday.

To be exact, Zack's birthday. He was one of us, at first glance, he seems like your average American. Don't let him fool you cos he's not. This motherfucker was once a full time Delta Force member.

Fresh from the academy, he's got what every greenhorn in a spec ops organization got. Rashness, naïve and pretty much thinks he's indestructible. He got kicked out after 3 months for raping this Jap tourist while on shore leave. Course N-CyGen recognized his talents despite his…voracious appetite. Recruited his sorry ass and put him with us.

Back to the fucking story. Right, birthday. So it was the man's 24th year on this Earth and we were in a hotel the corporation booked and covered the expenses for us. Course it was just known as employee perks.

Me and the other boys were waist high in booze and horny little whores. By the supposed living room, I saw Jacko, Eyes, McFarlene and Merkav enjoying the hired bitches doing a lap dance.

With the birthday boy fondling their asses as they grind upon the pole..

At least those whores could actually do something right other than getting impaled by dicks all day.

I remember downing the last bottle of Martel and from the corner of my eye, saw Trevor and the others having a chat near the bathroom. Seeing them doing something productive tugged my soul to go join them.

Let the birthday boy enjoy his day, you only live once they say.

Before I made it, my goddamn Iphone rang. I shouldn't have answered the call. But I did.

I remember I was outside when I finally answered.

"Corbulo definitely-_hic_ not reporting _hic_-in."

The cold voice on the other side spoke.

"We apologize for the inconvenience but your services are required, Corbulo squad is to report at 2300 hours, usual place. Tonight. There's been an…incident and we need you to clean up the mess."

I snapped to my senses and lost my temper, right then and there.

"What the fuck, we're on leave! can't you get other squads for this _mess_. We're –"

"Busy, yes, yes, we know. Once again We're sorry. But you're the only one available and these orders come straight from the higher-ups."

Fucking Bastard's not even half sorry for pulling us back into the shit

"Fine. This better be worth it. 2300 hours today, got it."

Zack was not only the most twisted of the lot, but also had the shortest temper amongst us. Pulling him from his birthday celebration basically spelt death, slowly, painfully. And at that moment I tempted the idea of suicide….

* * *

"Abe, You did NOT just fucking accepted the shit!" roared the ex-Delta Force his voice slurred due to the heavy amount of Bacardi and Coke he's been downing into his damn system.

As soon as I mentioned that we've been called back. Birthday boy kinda lost it. He sent the paid whores away.

The others weren't too happy as well. They had mixed reactions. Some were entertaining the prospect of earning more creds, while the others were just plain pissed to be brought back after cleaning after N-CyGen's shit for the past month.

"Just shut the Fuck Up, this was not part of the plan and I'm not too happy about it either. Apparently the corporation shat in the wrong place again and we're here to wipe their ass."

This time the entire squad broke out laughing.

We spent almost an hour getting sober especially birthday boy. I was grabbing my stuff in one of the rooms when Jem gave me a sharp slap from the back. The motherfucking asshole laughed as I was stumbling around moaning in pain. I recovered and swung a left hook and he duck while taunting me to chase him.

Being lazy and all I simply walk out of the room while flipping him the bird. It was all part of my plan to get back at him. The man was too fucking impatient and it made him predictable as hell. Not a moment later Jem tapped me on my shoulder and apologized. That fucker caught the bait, hook, line and sinker. I didn't respond so he took the initiative to continue the conversation.

"So boss, we really doing this?"

I stole a quick glance at the idiots, Jacko and Eyes having a go at each other before snapping my head back to the ex-marine.

"Yeah, we don't really have much of a choice. The corporation needs us. Its what we signed up for in the first place."

Jem groaned in frustration, I took my chance at the little shit,

"Hey, asshole,"

I said suddenly. Jem turned his head towards me and before he could speak my right fist was in his face.

He collapsed to the floor trying to stem the blood from oozing out of his nose.

"Man, What The Fuck!"

I remember closing the door on him and rejoined the others waiting by the entrance of the hotel room.

Pack whistled at the mess we cooked up in the damn room.

"Boge'Moi, room service is jizzing once they look at room,"

Trevor said something but the ciggy in his mouth kept him from actually saying anything recognizable as human speech but Eyes, ever the fucking critic had something on his mind.

"But once they hear your English, my soviet friend, they'd be glad they can jizz afterwards…."

Jacko joined in….I almost wanted to blow his brains out, Eyes and Jacko with Pack never ended up good.

"Motherfucker don't go no dick homie, shizzle fo wizzle."

Then Jem came outta the room, his nose caked with dried blood staring daggers at me, but my attention shifted back to Pack.

"Say that again, _Idi Na Khui_ and I cut balls off and use as car accessory."

* * *

I couldn't remember the details of what happened afterwards, spending almost a decade running for your life it erodes your mind. I remember us entering the meeting point. A café with a secret backdoor which led to a big facility underground. Note that we were still in civilian clothing. Our gear was stored in the local armory.

We passed by several employees as we made our way to the meeting room. Once in a while we'd stop and chat with familiar faces.

Once we reached the destination we were greeted by this hot secretary in her 30s. Most likely a MILF.

Zack gave a short growl and caught the attention of the secretary. Whose eyes widen in fear and ushered us in, all the while Eyes and McFarlene had to restrain him from his animalistic side.

We were greeted with a holo-table and once we stepped inside, the lights dimmed and the doors sealed shut.

The table lit up and holograms of our employers winked before us.

Jacko commented, "Wow that shit's new,"

I resisted the urge to say, 'Not A Single Fuck Was Given, nigger."

The air once again became thick with silence and our professionalism as grizzled elite security enforcers kicked in.

"Gentlemen we apologize for this emergency meeting, so to say."

I really set my self loose on that Bastard.

"Yeah sure, FUCK. YOU! You swiney little shitstain bitch! You do know that we were in the middle of personal business and you had to call us in? Why didn't you call the other squads? You just can't stand seeing others at ease, fucking sadist, I hope you burn in hell. I really feel sorry the little spitfuck for having to work on his Birthday. "

Each of us gave our own opinions on their bullshit. There was awkward silence for moment before Pack says,

"Make it quick, I have to use bathroom. I ate too much American food."

The hologram of the first man stepped forward, it was the same dickhead I cursed.

"Now, now that's no way to speak to your employer. We know of your personal activity but this is of the utmost importance. Do this job right and you can expect a raise."

Merkav finally spoke.

"Cut the crap and just tell us how much is this shit worth."

"3 million."

I remember Jaff choking on his own saliva at the mention of the amount. 3 fucking million. With that amount of creds, Pack the ever-car fanatic could really pimp his ride the way he's been having wet dreams about.

"3 million?" repeated Eyes.

"3 **million**. Each."

Some of us whistled, some scratched their chins while Jacko scratched his balls.

Zack had forgotten all about his endeavor and had perked his eyes up, 3 million could basically buy him a personal brothel in Japan.

One by one, we sealed our deal with the devils with two simple words.

"I'm In."


	2. Chapter 1

_Recording 02_

_Play_

_*Static burst_

* * *

**July the 17th, 2035**

Ever experienced a nightmare? I'm sure you do. Everyone does. But thing is, nightmares go away once you wake. They don't fucking try to rip your guts out, beat you to death or tear your face off in the morning. Well that's what we're in. A nightmare each and every passing day. Every morning I wake up I find myself wishing I could rewind the fucking clock, hell I'm even starting to miss listening to old Mrs Venison bitch about the republicans every afternoon, you know? Little stuff we ignore everyday, but once the circumstances change well, you get my point.

Yeah, so, once we basically signed our own Fuck-My-Life-For-Eternity-Contract, the Armory was the next stop. Located 2 floors lower and big enough to store some gunships in. This guy, Thomas Imelda, I'm not sure if he's still working there, he was the IC of the place. Big, stout, got a big thing with the ladies and a heavy drinker. The day I see him without a liquor is the day my ex-wife comes back to me.

We'd have a little chat and everything before we accessed our kit. Kevlar became obsolete in 2015, everyone knows this but I'm just givin' you a reminder. We use good old Silica-plates, some kind of synthetic shit the German eggheads cooked up in '13. Turns out at just 3 centimeters the material had the capacity to stop a .50 cal round at point blank.

Months later, boom! Everyone's using it.

Of course, N-CyGenetic's Elite Security Force members use single centimeter double layered vests, packed with bandoliers and basic combat attachments. What makes us scary and unique to other mercenary groups is our facemask. Ever read that book, Warhammer 40k? Well some asshole in the RnD obviously was a nerd of these franchises and made berth the Mark VI GUNGNIR Helmet, resembling fiercely to a Death Korps Helmet. It ends its similarity in the rebreather and helmet, where those fictional badasses had one long bulky tube attached to the backpack and a pointy helmet, we have a number of thin and durable wires that feeds filtered oxygen into the helmet from the generator powering our suit plus 22nd Century silica-made Advanced Combat Helmet or ACH.

The suit, ah, I miss being in it, shame that we had to ditch it so nobody could track us some years ago. It was made fully by that synthetic shit I spoke of earlier, it enhances the human body up to 40% peak capability despite the bulky appearance plus the greaves were pure brass, meaning i could literally punch my fist into some fucker's head and expect the skull to cave in or worse.

Right, right, rambling again. Sorry.

As we were putting on our suits, conversations shot back and forth, mostly between Eyes, McFarlene and that chatterbox, Jem. Was it about Gangnam style or that pansy Korean whore, Hyuna, I'll never know, I don't care anyway, that bitch lost her career when Kpop died because of some corporate scam back when I was a High School nerd.

Wait, I remember, it wasn't about the Asian hippie trend at all, the convo went more like this.

"It's a baaad day to die," mumbled the ex-Marine as he fumbled with his combat gloves, Eyes was at the corner, cleaning his eyelenses meticulously humming some french tune. Merkav and Zack were passing their equipment to one another.

"Aye, and to think, a day. I mean a DAY without actually putting a bullet in some fucker's head...I was starting to love yesterday. What's your opinion on this Jacko?"

"Farlene, If putting a bullet tween' the eyes of another nigga' means I get a hundred bucks more for my family, shit why the hell not? Then again, I'm not one for precision shots, its blood and guts for me baby!" roared the african-american as he revved up his minigun, thankfully there were no live rounds inside or we'd all been swiss cheese before the fight even began.

McFarlene turns to me when conversations get sour. He always does.

"Abe' comeon, you're obviously against this. Why the hell did they even put us back in action?"

"I dunno, but it must be pretty important." I slid the 6 inch steel blade in the sheath as I replied.

"Or they're desperate."

"Or both."

McFarlene laughs.

Trevor then came barging in, Sweet Williams Cigar hanging off his mouth, obviously pissed off.

"Alright you pricks, who took my fucking wielding tool!" Course everyone was too busy laughing to listen at that time, one thing about Trevor, he ALWAYS keeps his wielding tool in storage room B and once in a while he'd forget.

"Comeon, guys, the last time it went missing it was in B room!"

Pack fiddled with his gas mask as he answered. "Storage B, comrade. You always put it there, _da'vai_ I follow you. Need to take something there also."

Jem came up to me in a wierd posture, his helmet switched on but he wasn't suited yet. There was a slight burst of fizzling as the voice scrambler from the mic was powered on.

"Abe'"

Moaned the guy, doing this bad impression of Darth Vader. I decide to tag along.

"Yes, honey?"

"Come over to the dark side..."

A new voice joined in; Eyes.

"Jem, Suck my dick,"

His throaty scrambled voice garbled through the helmet and native french accent caused everyone to laugh. Zack, bloody idiot was fiddling with his voice scrambler, so it wasn't a surprise when his voice came out higher than that piece of shit, Alvin the fucking chipmunk. Convos and laughter alike were rife, and, lookin' back I missed our friendly banter.

Once were fully suited, we rejoined Pack and Trevor in Storage Room B, coincidentally was where weapons and ammunition were stored. I slipped my gas mask in place and was flashed with the Heads Up Display, the targeting systems ran wild, checking out everyone else in greenish tint. Meaning allies. The tactical Map and Heartbeat sensor came up online a few seconds later along with the suit's cooling system which vents heat out the body to mantain room temperature for the user throughout.

Everyone was happy in the sense to have a feel of their guns again. I missed my Desert Eagle, an extinct firearm schoolkids woould never probably heard of. Yeah, I had it with me back in my heydays in the Police Force. Bitch costed me 6 months worth of pay but money well spent nontheless. Saved my life more than I care to count.

"Right, Everyone!" I called out, Jem and Zack stole glances at each other, fists raised meaning obviously one of the two fucked something up and were gonna have a go at each other. I bloody ignored them, we were already behind schedule.

"Grab your kit, eat your shit and meet me in the Hangar Bays in 10, I want everyone suited, booted and strapped. Full Combat Load, maximum effort. Now move!"

* * *

Let me tell you one thing, it doesn't matter if you're a rookie or a veteran, spec-ops, black-ops or just a cookie-cutter grunt. The thought of never coming back from an operation would scare the shit out of you and that's how I felt; How everyone felt. Scared shitless. You can't really see it with our spookie helmets covering our face but you can judge from their behaviour.

Merkav was unloading and re-loading his mag into his rifle, Trevor was holding on to the support railing way too tightly, hell, not even Mortensen or Jacko spoke a word. We just sat there in the fucking heli, waiting for our stop, before that, this corporate agent had to give us a last minute briefing.

I never saw him afterwards, God knows what's been done to him to cover up N-CyGen's dirty secret.

The display lit up from the palm of his hands, a mini holo projector, connected to his wrist. He gave what sounded like a grunt before continuing.

"At 2311 Hours, Standard Pacific Time, our facility located several hundred feet underground has gone dark. The facility," The image of some structure in 3D form flashed in green hue of light.

"Is known as Arkadian II, located deep within the desert of Utah, away from prying eyes, Arkadian II is a joint project between N-CyGen Biotech Corporations and the US Government. It's staffed with over 1000 personnel from our top scientists."

I noticed the other guys were giving quick glances to one another, some whispered over the personal comms about how high the shit we are in. Oh there's no doubt we're in deep shit, just how high we were about to find out.

"It went dark, as suddenly as it came, security footages were destroyed, whatever feeds we got were of mass panic and hysteria spreading throughout the entire facility. Local security enforces were apparently overrun and - as a matter of fact, we sent a response of 2 ESF squads, Tetra and Orion Squad. They too were...compromised."

"Compromised? As in, dead?"

Trevor spoke, his voice low and ragged due to the rebreather and voice scrambler his helmet spurred. The Agent looked at us, all of us with that cold steely glare. After what came to be the longest 10 seconds in our lives, the spitfuck responded.

"We don't know."

More questions were raised, questions and hypothesis alike were flung once again back and forth in the heli, we assumed it must've been one of the other corporate saboteurs out for some valuable secrets witheld deep inside the laboratory, MD-Corps were famous for employing their black-ops agents so we assumed it was them. But the truth was far more fucking disturbing and far-fetched.

After the briefing, we spent the rest of the trip in total silence, each of us contemplating in dealing with pre-combat fears. I mean at the time, to die hundreds of fucking meters down a hole is a scary thought not to mention where no one would recover your body at the very least.

* * *

We rappelled down, 200 meters away from the primary location, our Nav Points showing us the direction. It was 2am, or was it 3 when we were doing this? Never mind, it doesn't matter, nothing much does now anyways.

So, we made our way to the underground lab, the cover up given was one of the most retarded one ever yet; of all things, a Petrol kiosk with a backroom elevator that would take one down the shaft 500 meters down. Seriously, N-CyGen is one fucked up Research and Development Corporation. The air was still and quiet, the nearest signs of human life were at least 5 miles out, so that should make our job easier without collateral damage.

We moved at a comfortable walking pace, chatting it up with one another through the squad channel, our only give-away to the world were the red lenses our helmets sported, like a fiery demon from hell, armed to the teeth and ready to face whatever the hell was lurking in that shithole. But we were wrong, we weren't prepared.

We were more likely considered well-armed lambs to the slaughter.

* * *

It began raining as we were halfway there, it didn't help since we were a hundred metres out, but good news was our suits were fully covered and waterproof. Jem began complaining then followed by Zack and Trevor, then Jacko as the downpour got real fucking heavy. Equipment is good but seriously, having your HUD fogged up with condensing water vapour on your eye-lenses is really a shit on a stick.

"Move, move!"

Growled Merkav as he began sprinting to the petrol kiosk, lights were on, everything looks normal minus the bodies; no blood, nothing. But at least we were out of the rain. Lighting was getting tipsy, as the heavy rain began affecting the electrical appliances in the cover-up store. The thudding and pelting of rain gave a bit of a soothing effect.

"Where's the skeleton crew?" voiced Zack as he slipped his helmet off and strapping it against his thigh, the others followed.

"Don't know, whatever it is, it ain't good." called Jaff from the back as he and Jacko secured the "employees room" which was actually a server room with direct feeds to Command.

"Jem, take 3 guys and set a perimeter, Eyes you're on overwatch get your french ass to the top. Yes it's raining fucktard I can see that, suck it up or your pay's slashed 30 percent!"

As the french got to his uncomfortable post, I oversaw the rest of the process of turning the kiosk into a mini outpost. Jaff called Pack over, the bumbling Russian techie came bouncing in, his 74U slung sideways, stock folded and all with his electronic equipment, he knelt down and jabbed an optical drive into one of the open ports, his eyes were set in determination and ruffled his pack for a mini laptop with what appeared to be a webcam attached to it.

Jaff went out, only to argue with Jem. I swear, they're like an old married couple.

"Ah, Good, satellite feeds, everything is good, I got secure link to Command coming up in ten seconds plus security cameras all around the facility, they'll be online in 1 minute."

As soon as he finished, we heard a new voice through our radio netwrok, Tactical-Display identified it as Command.

"Corbulo Squad, this is Overseer, your orders are simple. Extract the data deep within the laboratory, terminate any survivors or hostiles with extreme prejudice and destroy the facility."

"Command, say again, terminate survivors? Kill them?" It was Trevor.

"That is affirmed, they are now Bad Debts, they know too much, the US government has ordered this specifically. Any members from the ESF are to be deemed as contemporary allies till' further notice."

It wasn't the first time we killed innocents to protect the Corporate's interests, doesn't mean we have to like it. Jacko, the hulk of a man from the Navy SEALS voiced in.

"Eyo, Bossman, what are we up against?"

There was silence as though the guy on the other side was actually thinking.

"Nothing much you and your team can't handle, we'll be monitoring your progress from here. Overseer out." And the link was cut. Jaff swore loudly in cantonese, while Trevor and the others assembled hastily to the service elevator since it sported a bigger and wider space.

* * *

"Jesus Christ can't this thing go any faster!"

Whined Jem, who was promptly replied to by Zack, "Shut the fuck up" who, gave McFarlene a high five. I took a swig of the canteen from my pack before setting my helmet in. Merkav and Pack were sharing a small sip of vodka, pure and raw from Russia. Jem noticed and made his comment before I could on regulations.

"Christ man, drinking on the job. What you guys turning fuckin' Irish?" The two just laughed along and then the engineer came up to me, 'Oh fuck no,' I thought to myself, I already know what this bastard wants.

"Abe, got a ciggy?"

'Fuck off man', I wanted to say, but instead what came out from my mouth was...

"Sure, but get your own damn cigar next time!"

It's becomming like a goddamn perverted roleplay, I'd say that line every fucking time he'd ask for a cigar and he'd say, "You know me, haha."

Trevor put his mask back on and bellowed the smoke out, letting it run freely in his suit and into his system, surprisingly enough, this crazy motherfucker gets a boost in combat performance when he's high, not that I'm not complaining or anything I just wish he'd buy his own cigars. I mean who the fuck - ah, never mind I'm rambling again.

So, the elevator opens and we rush to the reception counter, Our Tactical Displays searching for hostiles and ragged breaths filled our own helmets. We'd move slowly, two man leapfrogging cover to cover. Jaff was on point, I was behind him, The place was big, and dark. And scary. Everyone was quiet till, Eyes said something stupid causing Trevor and Jem to break formation and smack the sniper on the head.

"Dima, how much further?" Merkav called from the back. The technician stole a glance at his PDA before replying general wide comms,

"50 meters up ahead, we are on correct path."

There was this huge metal door, with a terminal on the side. Jacko strode forward and wiped the dust off the reinforced metal, he then turned with jabbed his thumb on the door,

"It's reinforced but nothin' too hard for my C-12s, want me to blow it up?"

I refused since the explosion from the charges would alert our presence to whatever it was that took down a facility filled with a crapton of people and 2 elite merc squads, no, I got Dima to get the door. He said it'd be done in 2 minutes, the security encryptions were up-to-date military software. So what we did was form up into 2 rows of four, ready to unleash a hail storm of metal into whatever it was that compromised the lab. Pack stepped back, his PDA in hand and he squawked over the comms,

"Stand-by, opening doors in 3!"

There was a loud sigh of steam being let out and hissing then the mechanisms began to shift as the door that stood before us parted, there were no words exchanged as everyone racked the slides of their weapons, and Jacko revved his 30mm minigun; when the door fully opened, none of us could find words to describe the fucking scene before us.

All of us except Eyes.

"Eh, and I thought it was gonna be a challenge."

THWACK!

That was the Engineer smacking him on the head. Again.


End file.
